


Enchanted

by stopmysinfulhand



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Breakfast, F/M, Flirting, Smut, cute dates, unprotected sex, vague violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmysinfulhand/pseuds/stopmysinfulhand
Summary: At a party, that you were semi-forced to go to, you meet someone who makes the whole thing worthwhile. You certainly didn’t expect that person to be Captain America himself.





	1. Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sorta based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift, so I recommend listening to it while you read.

The chilled champagne in your glass bubbled happily as you brought it to your lips, crinkling your nose as the liquid fizzed down your throat. You hated the stuff, but at least it was complementary, and you’d much rather get drunk for free than have to repeatedly pay $5 at the bar. With a grimace you finished your drink, humming as warmth flooded your chest, contrasting with the cool wall you leant against. Perfect.

People swarmed around you, a mass of buzzing bees easily ignoring you in favor of each other. Not that you minded. You didn’t even want to be at the stupid party to begin with, but your boss demanded it. When you went into journalism, you didn’t expect to be forced to go to black tie events. If that had been in the job description, you quickly would’ve found another career.

A waiter carrying a tray passed by you and you placed your empty flute on it, picking up a full one in its place. You were wallowing in your bitterness when you saw Him. Across the room, he fidgeted with his cufflinks as he listened with interest to a woman tell him something quite animatedly. You couldn’t help but stare at him, his blond hair neatly parted in thick waves that made you want to run your hands through it, his suit jacket fitting his shoulders in a way that was downright sinful. You didn’t know who tailored for the Avengers, but you’d have to hunt them down and praise them, because holy shit.

His eyes flicked around and landed on you, startling blue staying on you for more than a moment. It made your heart start to race. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Speaking of which, you knocked back the full flute in your hand, letting out a satisfied sigh.

You kept your eyes trained on him, feeling a swelling in your chest you knew wasn’t alcohol. You recognized him, of course. It’d be near impossible not to. Steve Rogers, Captain America. An icon and a hero. Apparently also ridiculously good looking.

His eyes caught yours again and he excused himself from his conversation. He was coming towards you. Wait, what? You shifted and fiddled with your dress, trying to make yourself look presentable. You set the empty flute on a passing tray and tried not to stare as he came ever closer, forcing yourself to look as bored and disinterested as you had before you locked eyes with him.

When he stood in front of you, you felt the full impact of your nerves hit you as you stared up at him, a little starstruck, even though you often found yourself dealing with the Avengers.

He spoke first, saving you the trouble. What a gentleman. “Have we met?” He seemed genuine enough with his question.

You struggled to get out the words, so instead you just shook your head meekly, wishing your cheeks weren’t heating up under his gaze. “N-no,” you almost choked before clearing your throat. Jesus, what was this guy doing to you? “No, um, I usually just work with your PR department,” you said with an airy laugh.

The smile he gave you lit up his whole face, the whiteness of his teeth practically blinding you. You wanted to punch his stupid, perfect mouth in.

“Oh, are you a reporter?” Steve took a step closer to you, his body language showing he was, surprise surprise, genuinely curious.

You nodded, unable to help the shy smile that spread on your face. “Yes, I work for the Source as one of the editors. Occasionally I do field work, but that’s rare these days.”

“Well then, let me formally introduce myself.” He stuck his hand out. “Steve Rogers.”

You had to laugh. “Of course, I’m very familiar with your work, Captain,” you mused as you took his hand, a little surprised by how warm and firm his grip was.

He flushed a little, his smile turning embarrassed. “Please. Just call me Steve.” Oh, he was absolutely adorable.

“Steve it is,” you amended. He was still holding your hand, not that you particularly minded. It dawned on you that you hadn’t yet introduced yourself, so you told him your first and last name as well.

“(Y/N),” he said, rolling your name in his mouth in a way that made your knees waver slightly. “What a beautiful name. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He brought your hand to his lips in a terrifically old fashioned gesture that both made you want to cringe and swoon at the same time.

“The pleasure is all mine, Steve,” you managed, delicately extracting your hand from his grip.

“I’m guessing you don’t come to these often? I would’ve remembered.” While his words may have sounded cheesy, his tone was nothing but authentic, to the point it made your heart ache because he was just too sweet for his own good.

“Oh, um, no,” you laughed, “This is my first time. My boss asked me to come, and y’know, hard to refuse a direct order. I’m not much of a social kind of girl.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he said with a sweet smile. “I know what you mean though. I try to avoid parties like the plague, but Tony was adamant we all be here tonight.”

Hearing Iron Man being referred to by his first name was startling, but you supposed not as startling as being on a first name basis with the First Avenger. “Well, if it’s any consolation, your presence has made my night at least twenty-five percent better,” you teased lightly.

“Ow, only twenty-five?” He placed his hand over his heart and gave you his best faux-puppy dog eyes. “You wound me, (Y/N).”

He drew a giggle out of you and you covered your mouth to hide it, and the blush that was ever growing on your cheeks. He was so cute. Oh my god. “My sincerest apologies, Steve, I hope I haven’t dampened our budding friendship.”

He laughed as well and shook his head, grinning at you. “Not to worry, you get a free pass this time. Maybe I can even try to raise that percentage, huh?”

“Be my guest.” He seemed like he was about to take you up on that offer when his name was called from somewhere to your left, both of your heads snapping up to figure out who had interrupted your moment.

“Ah shoot, I’m sorry, (Y/N), I’ve got to go,” he said with a tinge of actual sadness in his voice. He met your eyes and gave you a smile, reaching for your hand so he could press another kiss to your knuckles. “I hope I get to see you again.”

“Me too,” you agreed. Steve gave you another quick smile before he parted, pushing into the crowd and vanishing from your sight.

A sigh left you and you let yourself slump against the wall again. You were absolutely wonderstruck. Thoughts began to race through your head as you attempted to process the interaction you just had with the leader of the Avengers. You raked your hand through your hair. There was no way that actually happened, right? The scenario was improbable. Just the idea of meeting eyes with someone at a party and clicking with them was romantic nonsense, let alone that person being Steve Fucking Rogers. Another sigh left you.

The rest of the party was uneventful, though you did make connections with some of the other famous party goers, which you supposed was the point of your presence there to begin with. Still, everything paled in comparison to your conversation with Captain Dreamy.

As you stood in front of the elevator, about to leave, you heard your name being called. Your eyes were drawn to Steve as he lightly jogged over to you, a big smile on his face. “Are you about to leave?” You nodded mutely, mystified that he had come to talk to you for a second. “Glad I could catch you then,” he said, gesturing for you to get into the now open elevator.

You stepped in and he stepped in next to you, pressing the button for the first floor. “Did you… need something?” you asked, shifting nervously.

He shook his head. “No, I just wanted to make sure you got to a cab okay.” The earnestness of his statement made your heart melt.

Once again, you felt a blush creep over your cheeks and you averted your eyes from his kind face. “You’re such a gentleman.”

He chuckled. “Well, I suppose I also had an ulterior motive.” You looked up at him confused as he handed you a sheet of paper. “It would mean a lot to me if you came to Tony’s next shindig. Here’s the info for it.”

You blinked at him. “Steve, I don’t know what to say.” You really were at a loss for words, your eyes trained on his honest, hopeful baby blues. The elevator dinged as it settled to the ground floor. He took your hand and closed it around the paper.

“Say yes?”

You broke into a grin. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you found yourself saying, much to your utter surprise. His eyes practically sparkled as he stepped away, making sure the elevator stayed open so you could exit, ever the gentleman.

“See you later, then.”

“Not if I see you first,” you replied in an effort to regain your cool and control of the situation. Mostly it just made you sound like a lame nerd. Steve didn’t mind though, obviously, since the smile he gave you was blinding right before the doors shut, cutting off the dazzle in a simple swoop of metal.

You blushed all the way to the cab, and all the way to your apartment. You were 75% sure that Steve Rogers just invited you on a date. Shit, that meant you’d need to buy another dress. Curse you, Captain Dreamy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I’m on a major Marvel kick recently, so it was really only a matter of time before I wrote something with either Steve or Bucky. Probably more to come, and please go easy on me when it comes to characterization, I’m still working out the kinks. Love you!!


	2. Second Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to that other party you were invited to, and have a significantly better time.

The building loomed before you, imposing, but only a little dark, the top floor lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. Cars lined the road, reporters lined the sidewalk, and you made a beeline for the side entrance, attempting to avoid all unnecessary human contact and any puddles that would mess up your new heels. Success was achieved as you entered and showed the security guard you kinda sorta invitation that was signed by Captain Rogers. He looked dubious for a moment before you introduced yourself, your name seemingly ringing a bell. “Oh, you. Yeah, Cap mentioned you. Go on up.”

He mentioned you? A flush ran up to your cheeks as you entered the elevator, fidgeting in your dark red fit-and-flare dress that you felt horribly underdressed in. Still, you couldn’t afford a ball gown for every occasion with what the Source was paying you, so you hoped a nice dress from the BusinessWoman™ section in Dillard’s would suffice.

The elevator doors slide open and there he was, Mr. Freedom himself, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world. His face lit up when he saw you and he quickly straightened, fidgeting with his tie in a way that reminded you of your own mannerisms. “You made it,” he all but exclaimed.

You nodded with a laugh and stepped out into the hallway, not wanting to stall the car any longer. “That I did. Hard to say no to the hero of our country,” you joked, stepping closer to him, but not too close. You didn’t wanna give off the wrong impression.

“Oh, you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to.” His lips tilted into a guilty frown and you waved your hands, anxious to turn it back upside down.

“Nonono, oh God, no, Steve, I’m honored that you invited me,” you said quickly, clearing your throat when you noticed people glancing at you as they left the elevators. Christ, way to go, (Y/N), not even five minutes and you’ve already made an ass of yourself in front of him. “I was just joking,” you said, quieter.

Thankfully it was only half a second before his smile returned in full force. “Good. I’d hate for you to feel forced to do anything,” he said earnestly. God, he was too good to be true. He nodded his head in the direction of the party. “Shall we?”

Your eyes darted to the throng of people, and you gave him a resolute nod, returning his smile. “We shall.”

The party was, to put it plainly, bumping. Much livelier than the last shindig, as Steve put it, with a dancefloor and a dj and everything. It took your breath away a little. You suddenly didn’t feel so out of place in your knee length dress, as it seemed many other attendees had had prior notice and packed their dancing shoes. You couldn’t stop the shocked laugh that left you. “Wow, what a rager. You guys celebrating something?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s Tony’s birthday. He sure knows how to party, don’t you think?”

“Mm,” you agreed. “This sure is one humdinger of a hootenanny,” you said, trying to keep your tone as even as possible, for comedic effect. You were gifted with the desired results as Steve laughed, music to your, albeit strained over the jams, ears. You watched him laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“You’re a riot, (Y/N),” he hummed. Your eyes met his and you felt a zing go through you, your focus going to steadying your wavering knees. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Please,” you said, letting him lead the way to the bar. You watched his broad shoulders cut a line through the crowd, a soft sigh leaving you as you watched his back flex as he leaned against the bar. You had to stop a second sigh from escaping as he turned his head to look at you, a smile causing little wrinkles to form at the corners of his eyes, a miniscule detail that still caused your heart to soar. Maybe it was just the smile doing that. You were so busy staring at him that you missed the question he posed. “Sorry, what?” you asked, trying to play it off like the music was just too loud.

He leaned close enough that his mouth was near your ear. “I said, what would you like?” It was crystal clear that time.

“Oh, um…” Your eyes flitted nervously across the back of the bar, trying to decide what would be appropriate. “Just uh, whatever you’re having, I guess,” you managed, flustered by his closeness and your own floundering.

He nodded and turned back to the bar, only to turn back moments later with two glasses of red wine in his hand. Hm. Surprising. He nodded his head in the direction of a sitting area and you followed as he cut through the crowd again, people splitting like the Red Sea did for Moses.

The sitting area was much quieter, and with few people occupying it this early in the night, you and Steve found a secluded spot relatively easily. You slid into the booth-like seat with Steve taking the place opposite to you. He handed you a glass and raised his in a mock toast, which you returned before taking a hearty sip. The taste was sweeter than you knew a red could be, almost enough that you forgot it was alcohol. “I didn’t peg you for a fine wine kinda guy, Steve.”

He laughed. “Well, I can’t get drunk anymore because of the speed of my metabolism, so if I do drink alcohol, I prefer to choose based on taste as opposed to alcohol level.”

“Ohhhh, that explains a lot.” He smiled and brought his glass to his lips, your eyes trained on his throat as he swallowed, unconsciously licking your lips before your eyes flicked back to his. “Well, you have awfully good taste.”

“I like to think so,” he said with a private smile that made you think he meant a deeper connotation. You hastily took a drink of your wine to cover the blush that stained your cheeks. The conversation went smoothly after that, neither of you refilling your glasses after you finished them, a small detail but one you noticed none the less. Steve made you feel comfortable enough that you didn’t need alcohol to loosen up.

Your ears perked up when the music shifted to a smoother rhythm and Steve seemed to notice too, his eyes trained on you. “Wanna dance?” you two asked at the same time.

A shocked laugh left you and you nodded in reply, taking his hand as he helped you out of your seat. He held your hand as he led you to the dance floor, the same hand sitting firmly against your waist once you had secured a spot. The music thumped through the floor into your chest as you pressed it against him. He gave you a soft smile as he began to lead you in the slow dance, leaving you with no choice but to avoid stepping on his feet, though you were sure he wouldn’t mind too much, you knew for a fact he’d taken bigger hits than your heels.

He whirled you around with a grace you’d seen his fighting style hint at, his gaze on you added to his proximity enough to make you blush. If you kept blushing like this, you were pretty sure you would pass out at some point due to all you blood flow being directed to your face.

He smiled at your reddening cheeks and twirled you slowly as the song played to a close. A moment passed after the music had ended, a soft silence falling over the crowd before the edm started again, the dance floor no longer a calm place, still you remained in his strong arms, your hands on his shoulders. “Captain Rogers,” you said softly.

Steve leaned down a little, his nose only an inch from yours. “Steve. Please.”

You nodded, about to bridge the gap when the ringing of your cell phone startled you, causing you to take a step back. A quick glance told you it was an avoidable call, so you gave Steve a shy smile. “Damn, I’m so sorry Steve, I’ve gotta take this,” you apologized, stepping towards a quiet corner. You turned to answer, missing the disappointed look Steve gave your back. The call in question was from your boss, who only called you to ask about tomorrow’s issue, which you had already handled and sent to him. How he could be so incompetent, and be in charge of you, was beyond you.

You hung up feeling frustrated, your head pressing against the wall as you fought the urge to yell. You had gotten so close to kissing Steve, but it was probably for the best that you had split before anything had happened. You didn’t wanna rush into something, especially with an Avenger…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice saying your name and a warm hand closing around your arm. “Are you okay?” Steve asked softly. You nodded.

“I’m fine, my boss is just an idiot,” you told him with a frustrated huff. He gave you an understanding smile.

“Do you wanna go sit back down?”

You shifted. “I think I should probably go,” you muttered, looking around at all the people that suddenly felt too close, too loud, too… much. Steve looked upset by this, but nodded.

“Can I walk you to the elevators?”

“Please,” you said with a smile.

He offered his arm which you looped yours through, pleased to walk next to him rather than behind him. It made you feel important, and a little less anxious. You were just about to approach the elevator bank when a certain jovial man with blue sunglasses blocked your path.

“Rogers! Been looking for you all night. Didn’t expect you to be so hard to track, what with your usual American glamour,” he rambled before his eyes shifted to you appraisingly. “Oh, who’s this?” You and Steve both opened your mouth to speak, Tony stopping you with a raised hand. “Ah-ah, don’t tell me. My guess is (Y/N) (L/N), editor of the Source?”

You blinked. “H-How did you know that, Mr. Stark?”

He grinned. “Well, it is my party, so it’d be a bit off if I didn’t know the guest list, don’t you think? Besides, Stevie here hasn’t shut up about you since the last party.” He spoke fast enough that you had some difficulty keeping up with him, but you definitely caught that last part.

“Tony,” Steve warned, his face flushing as he avoided your eyes. A blush heated your cheeks as well as you stared at Tony in wonder. “She was just leaving,” your kinda-date informed the birthday boy.

“Oh, so soon?” Tony lamented. “It’s just getting good. Besides, Cap could use a date, I mean really, after 70 someodd years-“

“Tony!” Steve interrupted, horrified. You couldn’t suppress the giggle that bubbled out of you. Tony was positively beaming at your laugh, his eyes darting from Steve to you.

“Oh, I like her.” He offered you his hand. “Thank you for coming, (Y/N).”

You shook his offered hand with a grin. “Of course, Mr. Stark, the pleasure was all mine.”

“What a peach,” he said offhandedly, like he was talking to himself. He gave your hand a squeeze before he patted Steve’s shoulder and vanished into the crowd, the only indication of where he had gone the uproar of “Tony!” that came from somewhere on the dancefloor.

“He’s really something,” you said, awestruck. Steve huffed in reply, his feathers obviously ruffled.

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

You laughed and tugged on his arm to continue on your way to the elevators. You stood with him against the wall and rummaged in your purse for a moment.

“Did you lose something?” Steve asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“No no, I have something for you.” You triumphantly pulled out a business card with your personal number scrawled on it. “Aha! Here.”

Steve took the card, a bit confused until he read it over. “Is this-“

“My cell phone number,” you supplied, giving him a cheeky grin. “Feel free to text me. Or call me. Whatever.” The smile he gave you filled you with so much joy, you were worried you were about to burst.

A beat passed where you both just stared at each other, uncertainty clouding your mind. Were you supposed to hug him? Kiss his cheek? Give him a firm handshake? He looked as nervous as you, which you weren’t sure whether to find reassuring or nerve wracking. The elevator dinged, saving you from any further awkwardness.

“I’ll uh, be going then,” you started, taking a step back. “Thank you for inviting me, Steve. I hope I can see you again soon.”

His nod was resolute, his smile soft. “I await the moment with baited breath.”

You were unable to help the very unladylike snort that left you, your hand coming up to cover your face in mortification.

The last thing you saw before the elevator door closed was Steve laughing adorably. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to figure out more situations in which to use the phrase “one humdinger of a hootenanny”.


	3. Breakfast Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve asks you out for breakfast and you meet a few of his friends.

The first thing your sleepy eyes were able to process was the glowing of your phone screen on the bedside table. The second was the incessant buzzing that helped you get the semblance of an idea that someone was trying to contact you. The rest of your room was dark, and a quick look at the alarm clock’s glowing red numbers told you it was 5:30 in the morning. Whoever was calling you better be important. When you finally looked at your phone, the number was unknown. You wiped sleep out of your eyes and hit the answer button, your sleep-heavy voice croaking out a “Hello?”

A cheerful voice answered your hello with one of its own and asked, “Is this (Y/N)?”

“This is she,” you grumbled, rolling onto your back.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“Steve?”

“...Rogers?”

Your tired brain finally made the connection. “Oh!” you exclaimed, sitting up. You heard a laugh on the other end of the phone.

“Sorry if I woke you, I just wanted to know if you wanted to maybe get breakfast with me? Or just coffee, if you’d rather.” He sounded nervous, like he was worried you’d say no. As if you’d reject Captain America.

Still, it was awfully early. In lieu of answering, you asked, “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I went for a run.” Of course he did, that perfect, healthy son of a bitch.

You glanced at the clock again. “It’s so early,” you mumbled. “But, yes, I would love to.”

“Ah, great! I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Sounds great,” you agreed. “I’ll text you my address.”

30 minutes later, you were showered, dressed, and waiting anxiously by your front door, fidgeting with the skirt you were wearing. Your phone rested in your lap, the time on the screen taunting you as you pressed the power button. 6 o’clock. You, for some reason, expected him to be precisely punctual, and you started to worry as the last number changed to a 1. You were expecting too much, you knew that-

A knock startled you and your phone slipped out of your lap, curses slipping out of your mouth as you stooped to get it. You hurried to the door and unlocked it. The dim light on your porch shown down on your visitor, illuminating sharp cheekbones and blond hair, Steve’s kind smile making him look somehow more angelic. “Hi,” you breathed, leaning against your door frame.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. You stayed against the doorframe, a dreamy look in your eyes as you stared at him. He shifted onto his heels, his smile turned nervous, and you remembered yourself and stood straight, mortified by your behavior.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I think I asked you first,” he said, a joking smile on his lips. Embarrassed, you nodded and stepped outside, shutting the door behind you.

“Right right, sorry, guess I got distracted,” you muttered as you locked the door. Steve set his hand against the small of your back as he walked you to his car, the dark blue vw beetle parked outside. You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped when you saw it.

Steve grinned. “You like it?” he asked, opening the passenger door for you.

You slid inside, nodding as he shut the door softly after you. Once he got inside next to you, you told him you loved it. The machine rumbled to life and he took off down your street, heading towards downtown. “Where we headed?” you asked, watching as the traffic started to clog around you.

He gave you a slight smile but didn’t answer, his eyes trained on the cars in front of you. Hmph. You relaxed back in your chair, tempted for a moment to prop your feet up on the dash, but you thought better of it. Steve probably wouldn’t like it, plus it wasn’t a good idea to elevate your legs in a skirt. The buildings that surrounded you like walls moved at a crawling pace, giving you a chance to figure out where you could be heading based on context clues. As the beetle crept further and further down the street, a light was starting to ignite in the back of your mind. Business and residential mixed in a way that was familiar, but you couldn’t place why.

That was, until, they cleared out entirely for a moment, revealing the Avengers tower, tall and now only slightly terrifying, thanks to your recent excursions inside. “Steve-“ you cut yourself off, breathless as he pulled into their parking area.

“I never said we’d be buying breakfast.” He sounded much too pleased with himself. “I hope you don’t mind pancakes. They’re the only breakfast food I know how to make,” he admitted sheepishly. “Although, Bucky can make some pretty great scrambled eggs, when he gets up on time.”

You were at a loss for words. Steve Rogers brought you to the Avengers tower so he could cook you breakfast and, you highly suspected, introduce you to his best friend. What kind of wild twilight zone were you living in?

You didn’t realize you were in a daze until Steve’s hand waved in front of your face and you noticed the quietness of the car, interrupted by your companion’s worried “(Y/N)?” You blinked and turned to him, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, just trying to figure out how I got so lucky.” It pleased you to see a light blush stain his cheeks. He returned your smile and got out of the parked car, quickly going to open the passenger door for you, ever the gentleman. You did your best to look demure as you clammored out of the car, your hands nervously smoothing your skirt once you were out, Steve shutting the door behind you. His hand on your back, guiding you towards the elevators up, did nothing to ease your anxiety as his touch caused your heart to race faster.

Once you were in the elevator you relaxed a bit, your back free of Steve’s hand and pressed against the wall. A shuddery breath left you. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “If you’d rather do something else, we can. I didn’t mean to push you to this.” Guilt started to creep into his voice, his own anxieties obviously elevated as well. “I can take you back home if you’d like. Jeez, I’m sorry (Y/N). Am I being too forward? I am, aren’t I?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw clenching in discomfort.

“No no no,” you rushed to clarify, stepping closer to him. “No Steve, this was really thoughtful and sweet of you.” You took his hand and squeezed, doing your best to give him a genuine smile. “I’m just a little nervous, s’all.” He visibly relaxed at your reassurance and squeezed your hand in return. The thought that you made Captain America so nervous was both hilarious and a bit disconcerting, but nevertheless served as an ever necessary reminded that he was just as human as you, even with the super soldier serum flowing through his blood vessels. The elevator glided upwards, and you kept hold of his hand, brushing your thumb across his larger knuckles. His hand didn’t dwarf yours per say, but there was definitely enough of a size difference to make you feel unfamiliarly petite. He released your hand when the elevator door opened, causing your heart to sink a bit, but he returned his hand to his usual place at the small of your back, pushing you ever so gently towards the awaiting common area.

The room was quiet and large, a cluster of couches offset from a nice looking kitchenette that you noticed had a full bar in it. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the New York skyline, accompanied by glass doors that led to an expansive balcony. The pure vastness of the room was intimidating enough to make you shrink against Steve, and that was nothing compared to when you noticed the occupants.

A red-haired woman you instantly recognized as Black Widow lounged on one of the couches casually, as casual as a spy could look you supposed, deeply engrossed in the book in her hand. A man with dusty blonde hair that was short cropped on the sides sat next to her, his head resting on her lap as he tinkered with something. It took a moment, but you recognized him as Hawkeye, the Avengers’ personal sharp shooter. There was a man hunched over at the breakfast bar in the kitchenette, long brown hair pulled back into a bun as he shoveled cereal into his mouth, the hand he used glinting the same color as the spoon he held. He had to be Bucky Barnes, previously known as the Winter Soldier. You barely held back a whimper as three sets of eyes trained on you, pressed into Steve’s side as you attempted to quell your ever fraying nerves.

Steve’s hand slid to your waist as he attempted to coax you from his side, his voice soft like he was talking to a skittish animal, which, for all intents and purposes, is what you were. “(Y/N),” he started, gesturing to the two on the couch, “That’s Clint and Natasha.”

Black Widow, Natasha, stood from the couch gracefully, knocking Hawkeye, Clint, off her lap. He was less graceful, cursing quietly as he stood, obviously not having been prepared to be pushed out of his spot. Natasha slunk over to you, her eyes appraising as she gave you a cautious smile. “So you’re the one Cap’s been talking so much about.” She said it as a statement, not a question, and it caused your cheeks to turn a soft shade of scarlet.

“Um, I guess?” You held your hand out cautiously. “I’m (Y/N).”

She took your hand, her grip like a vice enclosing yours. You had to fight off a wince. “Natasha,” she said, shortly but not unkindly.

Clint stood next to her and offered you his hand next, his smile much more lackadaisical. “Clint. S’nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

You expressed the sentiment in return, and Steve, obviously pleased with the exchange, steered you towards the kitchen. The need to dig your heels into the ground was overwhelming, equally as overwhelming as the quiet power that radiated off the man seated at the bar whose empty blue eyes seemed fixed on you as Steve coaxed you forward. “Buck, I want you to meet (Y/N),” he said happily, seeming not to notice the fear that seeped out of you and threatened to turn your legs to mush. The brunette set down the spoon and looked you over appraisingly, his chin elevated in a way that spoke of a past confidence that still lingered in him.

The smile that broke out on his face was both a relief and incredibly intimidating. He was so handsome. When he offered you his flesh hand, you almost forgot what you were supposed to do with it until Steve nudged you gently. You took Bucky’s hand and shook it, trying not to tremble next to the two men. “Hi,” you managed, staring up at him.

His smile grew slightly. “Hi,” he said in return, his voice much smoother than you expected. “Steve’s told me a lot about you. You’re even prettier than he described.” A bright blush stained your cheeks as you let go of his hand, pressing back into Steve.

“Aw Buck, c’mon, s’not fair for you to charm her better than I can,” he said good naturedly, obviously used to his friend’s good looks being a critical hit. Bucky shrugged with a grin and went back to his cereal.

“Just showing you how it’s done,” he teased.

The whole exchange left you feeling a little weak in the knees. You leaned against the bar and exhaled, watching Steve as he buzzed around the kitchen, getting out stuff for pancakes. “I was told you can make great scrambled eggs,” you said offhandedly to Bucky, your eyes still trained on Steve.

Bucky hummed in acknowledgment and pushed away his cereal bowl, stretching. “I think Steve overestimates my abilities,” he mused. “But they’re pretty okay.”

“Wouldn’t mind trying them,” you told him with a quick glance. “Since Steve did bring me here for breakfast and all.”

Bucky laughed and got out of chair, hands raised in surrender. “If you insist.” He joined Steve in the kitchen, both of them moving through through the room with the practiced ease of ballet dancers. You could tell they did stuff like this a lot. You sat at the bar with your chin on your palm, a soft sigh leaving you as you watched them.

Roughly 15 minutes later you had a plate set in front of you laden with eggs and pancakes. “This is. A lot,” you managed, eyes darting from Steve to Bucky.

Steve smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, (Y/N), I don’t think we really have a gauge of how to feed civilians. Just eat what you can, okay?”

You nodded and dug in, a pleased hum leaving you. Both men were watching you, two sets of blue eyes fixed on you as you ate. You covered your mouth with one hand and gave them a thumbs up with the other. “Very good,” you told them after you swallowed. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Steve fixed his own plate, piled even higher than yours, and sat next to you at the bar. Bucky wandered off, and with a quick glance around you noticed that Clint and Natasha had left as well, leaving you and Steve to eat alone. A quiet settled over you as you ate, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes with a smile, the moment sweet and vaguely intimate.

When you both had eaten your fill, you sat back in your seat and suppressed a yawn, watching as Steve mirrored your movements. The silence turned a bit awkward as you stared at each other, so to break it, you stood and gathered the plates, heading straight for the sink. “Hey wait a sec-“ Steve started, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Ah-ah. You made breakfast, so I’ll do the dishes. It’s only fair.” His mouth tightened into a line and he stood, moving to your side.

“At least let me help,” he pleaded. You looked up and sighed softly, unable to say no to those puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” you conceded, handing him a drying rag. You rinsed off the dishes and silverware, sudsing them up before rinsing them again. Steve dried them meticulously and set them on the drying rack, giving you a satisfied smile once you were done.

“Care for a tour?” he asked.

You thought for a moment and nodded, letting him set his hand against your lower back, in the usual spot, and lead you towards the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda let this one get away from me, and you can definitely tell how much I love Bucky whoops, but I still think it’s cute even if it runs on for a little bit. Hope you like it!!


	4. Guided Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve shows you around, and you get a little bit closer.

The tower was less intimidating from the inside, but just as large as the outside made it out to be. Steve led you around, explaining where different hallways went to, but you were so dazzled by the sheer size of the place that you missed most of it. Your ears perked when he told you the living quarters were up next. “What, so like, you guys all live here?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

He smiled at the question. “Some of us. I live here most of the time, but I do have a place in Brooklyn if I need some space. Clint’s got a country house, Tony’s got his mansion someplace, yadda yadda. But we all have a room available if need be.”

A wave of nerves washed over you. “Are we… going to see your room?”

Steve let out a small laugh. “If you wanna, sure. It’s not required or anything.” He shepherded you into the elevator and pressed a button, which revealed a little keypad. He typed in a code and the elevator began its smooth ascent upwards. “Security precautions,” he told you with a wink when your eyebrows furrowed.

“But I thought Mr. Stark’s AI monitored everything?”

A scottish-accented female voice piped up from a speaker in the elevator. “I do.”

“While F.R.I.D.A.Y is ever vigilant,” Steve amended, “it’s always better to be cautious, don’t you think?” He smiled, and you were won over in an instant.

“Oh sure,” you agreed.

You watched him as the elevator rose. He stood with good posture, his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on the rising number above the door. His profile was so beautiful, you actually sighed, stiffening in embarrassment as soon as the sound left you. Steve glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a sweet smile on his face. “Something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. It was a dreamy sigh,” you said teasingly, trying to play off the fact that you were being honest. He chuckled. Mission accomplished. The elevator doors slid open with a ding and he nodded towards the hall, motioning for you to go first.

You stepped into an expansive hallway, straight as an arrow, with doors on each wall. For a brief moment you imagined a scooby-doo chase scene, the ones where they went through one door and came out another, and laughed to yourself. Steve joined you in the hallway and set his hand in the usual spot, the small of your back, gently guiding you down the hallway. “How do you keep all the rooms straight?” you asked as he pointed out each one to you.

Steve smiled. “It’s easy enough when you’re here long enough. The photographic memory helps too.” He stopped in front of a door, that looked like all the others, and twisted the handle, pushing it open so you could see inside. “This is mine.”

It was neat, with hardwood flooring and a bookshelf by the window that looked over the city. His bed was made, the sheets tucked like a military bunk. The only marginally messy part of the room was the desk that had several pieces of paper littered over the top, all of them covered in sketches. You were drawn there first, gently rifling through them. “Did you draw these?”

His smile grew. “Yeah. I used to draw a lot more before, y’know,” he gestured to himself. “Still love it though.”

You returned his smile and picked up one of the pieces to get a better look at it. It was of someone you recognized, but it took a second to place it. The figure in question had long hair and expressive eyes, a face so familiar, and then it dawned on you. It was Bucky. As soon as it came to you, you were also struck by how lifelike it was. “Steve, this is incredible,” you breathed.

He stood behind you and peered over your shoulder. “Thanks,” he said bashfully. “That was one of the few times I could get him to sit still for me.”

“I didn’t peg him as a fidgeter.”

“You’d be surprised.” You two shared a laugh and you set down the paper, turning and almost pressing your face into his chest. “Whoa there,” he said with another laugh, gently grabbing you by the shoulders so you didn’t ram into him. You looked up at him with a sheepish smile and his hands slid down from your shoulders to your forearms, making goosebumps pop up on your skin. With a sharp inhale you looked away, choosing instead to focus on the bookshelf.

“May I?” you asked, drifting towards it with your hand outstretched.

“Be my guest.” Steve leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You stood in front of the shelves and scanned each one, occasionally taking one out to look at the cover. A few were familiar, bringing back memories of your youth when you read significantly more, and you couldn’t help but sigh as nostalgia filled you. Your fingertips brushed across spines until you found one that surprised you. You pulled it out and looked at a cover so familiar to you you could have drawn it by memory. A small girl stood in front of a closed door in a wall, flowers spilling over the wall and creating a fine border for the image. “The Secret Garden,” you breathed, looking up at Steve. “This was my favorite book as a kid, why do you…?”

He smiled and joined you at the shelf, gently taking the book from your hand. “It was mine too. Book about a sickly kid getting better? How could it not be,” said Steve with a light chuckle. “Mary Lennox and I were kindred spirits.” His eyes got cloudy for a minute, the sort of cloudy where you get caught up in your memories and feel what you felt then.

You tugged gently on his arm and he looked at you with a sad smile that melted your heart. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a little gruff before he cleared his throat and put the book back on the shelf. “Sometimes I can get lost in the past.”

“I totally sympathize. I was a history major before I went into journalism,” you supplied. You stepped away from the book shelf and twirled a little, your skirt swishing against your thighs before you gestured to the bed. “Can I sit?” Steve nodded his assent and you sat, admiring the comfort of his bed, even going so far as bounce a few times, laughing at yourself. “Sorry,” you said when you saw his look of amusement. “I’m a child.”

Steve laughed at that and sat next to you, making sure to keep a little space between you. “No need to be sorry. It’s cute.”

There was a shift in the air after he said that, an almost palpable tension. You two stared at each other, blue eyes trained carefully on (y/e/c) ones. You leaned closer without realizing, your hand resting on his knee to keep yourself up. “Thanks for the tour,” you said in little more than a whisper.

“My pleasure,” he said back, his eyes flitting to the open door behind you. “Maybe I should close that.” He said it more like a question than a statement.

You nodded. “Maybe.” Steve stood, gently shut the door, and returned to you, settling back on the bed closer to you. Close enough that his thigh pressed gently, insistently, against yours. He kept his hands in his lap, wringing them slightly as he kept his eyes trained on the floor. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. “Steve,” you said softly, and his head snapped up, those intense blue eyes trained on you once again.

“Yeah?” His voice was quiet. Soon you would both be whispering. The thought almost made you laugh, but you held it in. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, his beautiful, pink lips, and back to his eyes, hoping he would get the hint. He seemed to, as he leaned closer, his nose only an inch from yours, his head tilted slightly to the left. “You sure?” he asked, ever the gentleman. In lieu of an answer, you closed the distance and met his lips with yours.

The kiss was electric. He was so soft and pliant against you, totally opposite of what you expected. His hand came up and threaded into your hair, deepening the kiss, yet another unexpected move. When you placed your hand on his chest, you could feel his heart racing almost as fast as yours was.

You pulled away for air and Steve’s hand dropped from your hair, instead sliding around your waist and tugging you closer. Letting him move you, you straddled his thigh, quickly resuming the kiss with renewed vigor. Thick arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against thicker thigh, and you wondered for a minute if you had died and gone to heaven. You curled your fingers in the white shirt he wore and tried not to throw yourself at him any further than you already were.

You felt his hands start to slowly descend from your waist down your back and smiled against his lips, smiling wider when you felt him smile as well. Soon you were both giggling against each other, your head falling against his shoulder. When the laughter finally ebbed away, you sat up, running your hand through your tousled hair.

“Am I dreaming?” you murmured, eyes scanning his face. He really did look like something out of a dream, his cheeks flushed and his lips a little swollen. A few strands of blond had fallen in front of his face and you swept them back lightly with your hand, returning them to their rightful place among his waves.

“Not unless I am too.”

You were about to lean in to kiss him again when there was a knock on the door, nearly scaring you out of your skirt. Steve sighed and carefully took you off his lap, setting you back on the bed before he stood. He opened his door a crack and looked at the knocker with what you assumed was annoyance. There were words exchanged but you couldn’t place who it was based on their voice. That was, until Steve was saying “Wanda, don’t-“ in exasperation, and he was pushed to the side so the Scarlet Witch herself could peek around him to see you.

You waved a little awkwardly and she waved back before turning back to Steve with a grin on her face. “She’s so cute!” she said just loud enough for you to hear, causing your cheeks to heat up. The two exchanged more words, and then she was pushing all the way in, striding over to you with a smile. You smoothed down your skirt as you stood, your nerves practically on fire as you shook the hand she held outstretched to you.

“I, wow, um,” you found yourself fumbling for words. “It’s really an honor to meet you, Ms. Maximoff, ma’am.”

She laughed softly and your heart clenched a little. “Just Wanda is fine. It’s nice to meet you too, (Y/N).”

“Thanks,” you managed, realizing you were shaking her hand for too long. Wow, she was so nice. She smelled nice, too, all floral and warm. God, why were all the Avengers so attractive?

Steve seemed to sense your turmoil and set his hands on Wanda’s shoulders, steering her from the room. “Okay, great, you met her. Now please, a little privacy.” Wanda waved to you one more time before Steve shut the door behind her with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry about that,” he said, running his hand through his hair as he joined you by the bed again. “She can get a little nosy.”

“I don’t mind,” you assured him. You took his hand and gently tugged on him, pulling him onto the bed so you could climb on him again. His large hands settled on your hips and his pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You were about to deepen it, when an alarm started going off, startling so hard you would’ve fallen off his lap had he not pulled you closer against him. “What’s that?”

“Nothing good,” he said, his lips pressing into a thin line. He set you on the bed and pointed to you, all business. “Stay here.” Not like you were planning to go anywhere else.

Still, you nodded and sat cross legged, watching as he hurried from the room, leaving you alone to hear the shrieking from the speaker in the ceiling and wonder what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, here’s me trying to actually put some plot in this. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Snow White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some shit goes down and Steve has to drive you home.

In hindsight, sitting on Steve’s bed and waiting for the alarm to stop was most likely not the brightest idea you’d ever had. At best, you were safe from whatever was happening, but mostly you were just filled with anxiety as you fiddled with your skirt and prayed that everything was okay.

There were several crashes from floors below that had you wincing and moving farther onto the bed, cowering against Steve’s pillows. Surely things were okay, or at least going to be if they were not already. More crashes from below. Glass breaking. Jesus, who would even try to break into the Avengers tower? All the Avengers lived there! It didn’t make a lick of sense to you, but then again, you weren’t a villain. For a brief moment, you pondered if you should be documenting this. Once a journalist, always a journalist. However, you decided against it. If you were going to further things with Steve, the separation of your job and your love life would be crucial. It certainly wouldn’t bode well if he thought the only reason you dated him was for a story.

Another crash from below, this time closer to you, and then the sound of glass shattering, maybe a window. Footsteps thundered through the hallway and you fought the fear mixing with your heightened anxiety.

Suddenly everything went silent, the alarm and crashing ceasing together. You slid off the bed and crept towards the door, peeking into the hallway. When nothing was to be seen, you stepped out and went to the stairs next to the elevator, going to the floor below you. Peeking through that door, you could see carnage, broken glass and flipped furniture, but no people. Descending another floor, you found out where the people were.

The Avengers were assembled in a circle around a group of individuals laid out on the floor, obviously unconscious. You slipped through the door as quietly as you could, your back hugging the wall as you watched.

The circle of supers looked pretty ruffled, none of them in full garb. Steve had only his shield, resting by his side, and Tony had his Iron Man gauntlets on, one still pointed at the unconscious criminals. Everyone else was seemingly empty handed. Wanda crouched next to one of the criminals and began to do her neat magic thing, red swirling around his head as she pulled info from him.

Nat spotted you almost as soon as you stepped through the door and nodded towards you, neither telling you to leave nor come closer. The lack of acknowledgement from anyone else made you feel like you were intruding, but you were too intrigued to skedaddle.

After a few voyeuristic moments, you decided to speak up. “Steve?” you asked tentatively, drawing almost every pair of eyes towards you, excluding Nat and Wanda. Steve gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to join him. “Is everything okay?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and tucked you against his side, his face grim.

“Well peaches,” Tony started, addressing you. “It seems as though our security is not quite as tight as I thought.” He gestured to the unconscious men. “We don’t know what they’re here for, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Could be me,” Bucky piped up, his metal fist clenching.

“C’mon Buck, don’t put this on yourself,” Steve soothed, patting his shoulder.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” supplied Nat.

“Natasha,” he hissed in return, to which she shrugged. “Whatever the reason is doesn’t particularly matter right now. We need to do damage control and clean up.” He released you and went full Cap, assigning people different duties before he turned to you again, an apologetic smile on his face. “I’ll drive you home, okay, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Sure, I just need to get my purse from your room,” you told him.

“I can walk you up,” volunteered a charming voice, that belonged to an equally charming man that you recognized as the Falcon. “Sam Wilson,” he said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You did, gladly, unable to stop the smile spreading over your face.

Steve clapped his friend on the shoulder, a gesture he was obviously fond of performing, and turned to help gather the unconscious criminals from the ground, giving Sam the okay to escort you. The two of you took to the stairs. “So, (Y/N). What do you do?” Sam asked, making small talk.

“I’m the editor at the Source,” you told him with a slight smile.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a journalist,” he said.

“Ah well, I was never really one for a field work. I’m a damn good reader though.”

He laughed at that. “Fair point. How did you meet our fair Captain?”

You gave him a demure smile. “At this tower, actually. At a party, I think about a week and a half ago. He came over and saved me from being a complete wallflower.”

Sam opened the door to the residential floor for you and let you go first, quirking an eyebrow at you. “How noble,” he mused. “I’m glad though, you seem like you could be good for him.”

You blinked at him, a light blush staining your cheeks. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Lately he’s had quite a spring in his step. It’s nice to see him so happy.”

You grabbed your purse from Steve’s room and grinned at Sam. “Well that’s really nice to hear, thanks Sam.”

He grinned right back. “You’re more than welcome. I hope we get to see more of you around here.”

“Me too,” you said earnestly. This time you two took the elevator, the two floor trip taking mere seconds. Steve looked up from the pad he was tapping on and smiled at you, the action causing your heart to flutter. Sam bade you goodbye just as Steve joined you by the elevator.

“Good to go?” he asked. You nodded and then you were in the elevator again, speeding down to the parking garage, where the blue vw waited like a trusty dog. Luckily the traffic was minimal, and soon enough, you were pulled up in front of your apartment, the bug idling as you twiddled your thumbs.

“So,” you said, looking up to your door.

“So,” returned Steve, giving you a slightly crooked smile.

“Do you uh… Do you wanna come up? I could fix you a drink.”

Steve’s smile grew. “(Y/N), it’s 10 o’clock in the morning.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right. Sorry.”

“Do you want me to come up?” he asked, his tone gentle.

You chewed on your bottom lip before nodding. “Yes. Maybe. If you want to,” you said, a little helpless. The speed with which he shut off the car and was at your door, opening it for you, was astounding. You stepped out, his hand going to the usual spot on your lower back, and you dug around for your keys, opening the door as quick as you could. Ushering Steve inside, you set your purse on the table and locked the door behind him. “Can I get you anything?”

“A glass of water would be lovely, please,” said Steve as he took a seat on your sofa, looking much too large for your small apartment. You complied and filled one of your novelty disney princess glasses with ice water, handing it to him before you sat next to him. “Huh,” he marveled as he looked at the glass. “Snow White.”

You nodded. “You give me a Snow kinda vibe.”

He smiled. “Do I? Well thanks I guess.” He sipped the water and set it down on a coaster. “I remember when that movie was in theaters for the first time. Absolutely incredible.” He got the same dreamy smile he had earlier when he was talking about the Secret Garden, like he was lost in the past again.

You felt a little bold as you wrapped your arms around his arm, pressing your chest lightly against his bicep so his attention was drawn back to you. Light red stained his cheeks as he stared down at you, his eyes catching the opening of your shirt before turning up to the ceiling, his cheeks darkening even more. “Steve,” you said quietly, and sure enough his attention was back on your face.

“Yeah?” He swallowing hard.

You hesitated a minute, your confidence waning the longer you remained locked in his stare, but you pressed forward. “You wanna continue from this morning?”

His mouth opened, closed, opened, and closed again, his stare somehow even more searching as he thought over his answer. He took a sip of his water. You waited. He really drained the glass. You were starting to get nervous. “We don’t have to—“

“Yes,” he interrupted. “Please.”

You were on him in a second, legs hooking around his waist, and he was more than happy to receive you, his hands going to your hips once you were seated in his lap and your lips were locked together. Everything about him screamed solid, but his lips were probably the softest things you’d ever felt. You mind wandered for a brief moment as you imagined Captain America regularly using chapstick, and a soft giggle left you, causing Steve to smile against your lips. “Something funny?” he asked.

“Just thinking,” you told him before pressing gentle kisses down his cheek to his neck. He hummed and the vibrations buzzed your lips, your smile growing. Nuzzling his neck, you pressed closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. The mood had cooled a little, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You were too busy being cuddled by the First Avenger. Another giggle threatened to leave you, but you held it down.

You pulled back from his neck and cupped Steve’s cheeks in your hand for a moment, much to his confusion, running your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You alright?” he asked.

In answer to his question, you kissed him again. There was more feeling behind this kiss, whether you acknowledged that or not, and it made you want to shy away. Steve was steady though, a rock amidst the stormy seas of your emotional indecision. You clung a little tighter to him. Soft pants emanated from your mouth as you finally parted from him. He was a sight, his lips somehow redder than usual, his pupils blown wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. It was damn near sinful to look at. Your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

His eyes held you in a trance, silence echoing between you two as you stared at each other. You licked your dry lips and his eyes flicked away from yours for a moment to watch, and the action made your heart beat harder, if that was possible.

He spoke first. “Do you, uh, would you like to get dinner with me? Tomorrow night?” You nodded, unable to get your mouth to form words. His grin was infectious, and soon you were smiling so much your cheeks ached. Steve’s eyes flicked towards the clock above your door and his face fell, disappointment evident in his eyes. “Aw jeez, I’m sorry, (Y/N), but I’ve got to get going.”

“Oh,” you said, trying not to show your own disappointment as you climbed off his lap. “Yeah, of course. Don’t want the team to worry.”

He smiled and stood, letting you walk him to the door, where he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Even though the two of you had just made out, you still flushed at the sweetness of the kiss. “I’ll see ya,” he said before heading towards his car. You bade him farewell and waved him off, leaning against your doorframe as you watched him drive away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I just get a hankering to make out with Steve Rogers, y’know?   
> Comments are super appreciated, and I’ve been thinking about doing some requests, so if you wanna get a hold of me, you can dm me on my tumblr zoovweemomma. Love you!


	6. Unexpected Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get two visits from people you never expected to want to get to know you, one at work and one home. Not the best for your already increased stress level.

The office was a hubbub of activity, your office in particular a hotspot, as your coworkers dropped off articles and tried to pry information out of you about Captain America. How they got word you’d gone on a date with him so fast was beyond you, but you supposed it never did well to underestimate the power of skuttlebutt, especially in a place full of reporters. Tactfully avoiding each inquiry, you warded the askers off by asking them about the stories that should have been on your desk and yet, were not! That got almost everyone out of your office pretty fast.

Finally, you could actually do your job. Or try to, at least. It was hard when your thoughts kept flashing back to yesterday in your apartment, and the way Steve’s hands felt on your hips. You dragged your hands down your face with a groan. The day was going to be tough.

After editing a few articles, you headed down to the workroom to grab a cup of coffee, having to essentially dance through the halls to avoid people. The workroom was blissfully, thankfully, empty, and the coffee pot had just been filled. You sent a silent prayer of thanks to the work gods as you poured your cup. The counter dug into your back as you leaned into it, but the minor discomfort helped you clear your head a little more.

A head poked into the room, causing you to groan when you recognized it as Chance, arguably your favorite coworker/best friend. “Don’t start,” you pleaded. 

He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I assure you.” He paused a beat. “Unless, of course, you’re talking about the fact that you went on a date with Captain America and didn’t tell me. But that’s fine.” 

You groaned and rubbed your temple as you took another sip from your mug. “I told you not to start,” you whined.

“It’s none of my business,” he said, looking in the fridge for a water bottle. He shut it fast, his face a mask of seriousness. “Only that it definitely is.” A beat of silence, and then he was bombarding you with questions, excitement evident in his eyes.

Holding up your hand to stop him, you took another sip before answering. “Steve is very nice, he took me out for breakfast, and we’re going out for dinner tonight. No, we haven’t done anything yet, and before you ask, I don’t know if we’re going to for a while.”

Chance grinned. “Are you gonna star spangled bang him?”

“I hate you.”

He cackled, like a literal cackle, which you didn’t think was a real sound people made. 

“That doesn’t even make sense anyways! Terrible pun,” you grumbled into your mug. “-10/10. How you became a writer, I’ll never know.”

“That was a great pun, and you know it,” he said smugly, snatching your mug to take a sip before he handed it back. “Are you going to actually give me details this time?”

You nodded, purely to get him to leave you alone, which he did, and you retreated back to your office, plans to finish your work forefront on your mind.

Until a sharp wrapping at your door startled you enough that you knocked over your coffee mug, spilling coffee over your papers and drawing several curses from your mouth. “What?” you called, you voice dripping in annoyance.

Your secretary peeked in and told you very excitedly that you had a visitor. Your annoyance morphed into confusion as you told her to let them in, standing to greet them. Your visitor turned out to be Iron Man himself, Tony Stark, and all traces of annoyance vanished from your mind as you hastily welcomed him inside, nerves almost overwhelming you. “M-Mr. Stark!” you managed. “What a pleasant surprise. How wonderful to see you again.” You gestured to the chair across from yours and began to mop up the spilled liquid from your desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He sat at your request and watched you clean with a semi-amused expression on his face. “I hope I didn’t cause that,” he mused.

“Oh no, Mr. Stark. I’m just sorta clumsy,” you said sheepishly before sitting in your chair. “What can I do you for?”

“First off, Tony is fine. Second off, I think you and I need to have a chat.”

You froze, back stiffening as you blinked in surprise. “A chat, Mr. St- er, Tony?”

He waved away your nervousness. “Chill out, kid. Listen, I know you and Capsicle have been getting pretty cozy, which, mazel tov, whatever, but I need you to know that I have the team’s best interest at heart,” he told you sternly, his fingertips brushing over the arc reactor in his chest. “I also need you to know that if you’re using him for a story, I will not hesitate to sever all contact our PR has with the Source.”

You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way your heart pounded in your chest as he stared you down. “Mr. Stark— Tony, I—“ You took a deep breath. “I would never even think about it,” you told him, leaning on your desk slightly. “Using Steve is the last thing I’d want to do, and I’ve already decided I won’t use anything I see inside the tower in an article. You can trust me, Mr. Stark, I swear.”

He seemed to give you another look of appraisal and nodded. “Super.” He clapped his hands together, stood, and gave you a winning smile. “Glad I judged you right. Welp, be seeing you, kid,” said Tony.

“Wha—“ You stared at his form as he retreated to your door. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he said simply. He shot you a wink as he opened the door. “Toodles.” With the cheerful goodbye he was gone, leaving you scratching your head, at a loss for words. You didn’t think it would be that simple to gain his trust, but maybe you just gave off a good vibe? God, who knew with that man. Your secretary found you still standing, your mouth slightly agape.

“What did he say?” she asked eagerly, her eyes shining.

You hesitated a moment. “I suppose he just wanted to see if I could be trusted,” you said, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Wow,” she breathed. “A real celebrity.” She gripped your arm suddenly, her vice like hold accompanied by a gasp. “That means— You’re like a celebrity by association! Which makes me one too,” she squealed.

You grimaced and brushed her off. “Not even close. I’m still a nobody, and so are you,” you teased gently. “Now shoo, don’t you have work to be doing?” 

She laughed. “Shouldn’t I ask you the same thing?” She punctuated her question with a gentle jab at your ribs.

“Yeah, sure would be great if I could actually get something done around here,” you sighed, sipping from your coffee mug. Your secretary bid you goodbye, leaving you alone once again to ponder Tony’s words and your own (potentially) rising status.

Managing to return to the growing piles of articles on your desk, you passed the time quickly, falling into the easy rhythm of editing as you read. Soon enough, your inbox was almost clear, and the clock on your computer shifted into 6 o’clock. Wait a second. 6 o’clock? Shit fuck! Steve was gonna be by your place in an hour, and you probably smelled like newspaper ink and stale coffee. You quickly saved your work, shut everything down, and hightailed it out of your office, lightly jogging to the subway.

You checked your watch nervously every so often as the train ambled towards your usual stop, not going nearly fast enough for your liking. By the time you reached your apartment, it was 6:20, and you were on the verge of a panic attack. As soon as you had the door closed behind you, you were stripping off clothes, heading towards the shower with a speed you didn’t know you possessed. Cutting the time of your bathing to roughly 5 minutes, you struggled to find something suitable to wear. It didn’t help that you didn’t know where he was taking you. Should you wear something fancy? You pondered your quote-unquote fancy dresses, and grimaced. Maybe something simpler? Should you wear pants or a skirt? Good God, you were helpless.

A well timed ringing from your phone distracted you long enough for you to look at the number, and not recognize it. The last time you had an unknown number, it had been Steve, so the odds seemed high that there was a possibility that it would be someone as equally interesting. Lifting the phone to your ear, you said a tentative greeting.

“Hi (Y/N),” a cool, feminine voice replied. “This is Natasha.”

“Natasha!” you exclaimed, before hurriedly muttering an apology. “How’d you get my number?” 

“Rogers gave it to me.” Why? You kept your question to yourself and let her continue. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Yesterday was quite a fiasco.” 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and pondered her question. “Uh, I’m good, I guess? A little nervous.”

“Big date tonight?” asked Natasha. You could hear her smirk over the phone and it made your cheeks flush.

“How’d you know?”

A light laugh over the receiver sent a shiver up your spine. “It’s all he’s been able to talk about,” she teased gently. “He’s very excited.”

“Well, me too, but I don’t know what to wear,” you lamented, rummaging through your clothes again. 

A pause on the other end. “Want me to come help you?”

Her question took you by surprise. “This is Natasha Romanov, right?

“Yes,” she confirmed with another gentle laugh.

You tried not to gush as excitement began to rise within you. “Really? You wanna help?” When she gave you another confirmation, you let out a little laugh of shock. “Yes! Yes, please. That would be great, Natasha, thank you.”

“Great, I’ll be over in a few.”

“But, how do you know where—” She hung up before you could finish your thought, and a knock resounded through your apartment. You opened the door, and there she was, in all her redheaded glory. “Jesus, Natasha, when you said a few, I didn’t realize you meant a few seconds.”

She pocketed her phone and gave you a close-lipped smile. “I was outside.”

“What, why?”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked, her eyes darting behind you into your apartment, your question left unanswered.

You stepped out of the way and let her come in, shutting the door behind her. “What are you, a vampire?” you mumbled.

“That’s classified,” she responded brightly, sliding her coat off her shoulders. “Show me your wardrobe.”

Roughly 20 minutes later, Natasha had you decked out in a flowy dress you hadn’t worn in ages, matched with a pair of kitten heels, and she insisted you wear panty hose, although you were hesitant at first. “Why all the flair?” you asked, admiring your reflection in the mirror as she styled your hair with more skill than you could ever conjure.

“You’ll see,” said Natasha cryptically, but then again, you supposed everything she said was cryptic in some way or another.

Your phone buzzed with a text, Steve letting you know he was on his way, and your heart thundered in your chest. “He’s coming.”

“I figured that would be later tonight.”

“Wha—” Her innuendo sunk in, and you smacked her with your clutch, scandalized. “Natasha!”

She laughed, a real laugh, the sound ringing in your ears. It was kinda scratchy, and you knew she didn’t laugh a lot. Your pride swelled, just a tiny bit. “Thanks for helping,” you said meekly. 

She gifted you a smile. “I enjoyed it. I don’t have many girl friends. I mean, Wanda’s great and everything, but it’s nice to meet someone normal for a change.”

You grinned. “I bet you don’t meet too many of those in your line of work. I hope we’re able to be friends.”

“Me too,” she said earnestly, her stare still a little unnerving even when accompanied by her kind words. The doorbell rang and she got up to answer the door, leaving you to give yourself another once over and gather your things. There was chatter in the doorway, and when you stepped out of your room, you could see Steve, dressed sharply in khakis and button up, a confused smile on his features. When he saw you, his face lit up and Natasha waved goodbye to you before she slipped around him, leaving the two of you alone.

“You look incredible,” he told you, his smile growing as you joined him at the door.

You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “So do you. Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, doll.” He let you lock the door behind you before he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into an almost chaste kiss. Then, he led you to his car, and you were off into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's so much dialogue? I've been in a wicked writers block slump, so please just bear with me. 
> 
> Comments fuel me, so please, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


	7. Get Jazzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Steve go on that big date and decide to go home together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is soft and smutty. Please enjoy.

For the second time in your life, you found yourself fiddling with your skirt in the front seat of Captain America’s VW Beetle. Marveling at the fact, you tried to still your fidgeting body. The effort proved to be unsuccessful. 

Steve rescued you from your thoughts, taking your hand into his. He smiled over at you, and it was like you were hit with a sudden ray of sunshine. “Everything okay?” he asked in mild amusement. 

“‘M fine,” you told him. “Just nervous. I wish you would tell me where we’re going.”

“What, you don’t like surprises?”

“The last surprise date you took me on was me meeting your super friends,” you said flatly.

He frowned. “You didn’t like that?”

“That’s not what I mean.” You squeezed his hand to reassure him, and that blinding smile reappeared, thank god. “It’s just… I’m not even sure what to expect.”

“Well you must have some idea,” he said, his eyebrow arching. “Why else would you get all dolled up?”

“Natasha.”

“Ah.” Steve was quiet for a beat. Then, he tilted his head, bemusement evident in his eyes. “So, that’s why she was there. She helped you get ready?”

“Yeah. I didn’t even know she knew where I lived.” You were still slightly unsettled, to be honest, but she was a spy afterall. You supposed she made her business in knowing stuff like that. That didn’t really make it any less creepy. “It’s a little unsettling that all your friends know where to find me.”

“What do you mean?” 

You hesitated a minute, unsure if your should tell him about your work visit too. “Mr. St- Tony,” you corrected, remembering his insistence from earlier, “came to visit me at work.”

Steve’s face grew stormy in an instant, his grip tightening on your hand. “Did he now?”

His reaction left you confused. You decided to tread lightly. “Yes,” you said. “He wanted to make sure my intentions were good, I guess.” You watched Steve clench his jaw. Guess Stark was a touchy subject. “You okay?” You ran your thumb along his knuckles, hoping the action would calm him. It seemed to do the trick. His eyes softened, a soft, close-lipped smile on his face, even though his brows remained furrowed. He gave you a short nod, and that was that.

The rest of the car ride was silent. Steve drove towards Manhattan, only letting go of your hand to find a parking spot. Taking a look around, you realized you were right by Times Square. “Where are you taking me?” you asked quietly, the question more rhetorical than anything. 

Your date was full on grinning as he opened your door and helped you out of the car. “Just a short walk,” he assured you. He held your hand as he dragged you to a building with a black awning. 

“Swing 46 Jazz and Supper club,” you read out loud. You looked at him with wide eyes. “A swing club?” 

He beamed. “You like it?”

“Steve, I can’t dance,” you told him hesitantly, not wanting to dampen his mood.

“Me neither,” said Steve brightly. He squeezed your hand. “But, I made a reservation. I’d hate to waste it.” You followed him into the club, where he informed the person at the front desk he had a reservation for Rogers. The maitre de, obviously starstruck, nodded and led you to a private table in the back. 

The place was hopping, couples drifting in and out the door to the dance floor. The restaurant part was more lowkey, but you could feel the jazz through the floor as you took your seat across from Steve. You looked over the menu. The food was pricey, but food was pricey everywhere in New York. You were used to it. You decided on the cheapest entree, the vegan lasagna, and a cosmopolitan. You weren’t sure you’d be up for sober swing dancing. 

Dinner went fast. You were two drinks in and full of lasagna when Steve stood and offered you his hand with a smile that bordered on shy. “Dance with me?” You pondered for a moment. The buzz you were feeling was pleasant, and the dull thud of the jazz band in the next room was starting to get infectious. You hummed in thought, just to make your date squirm a little. It worked. Steve shifted to his other foot, his eyes pleading with you. “Don’t leave me hanging, (Y/N). Please?” 

You grinned and took his hand. “Fine, but only cause I hate to see you pout,” you teased, letting him pull you up. “My warning still stands though. I never learned to dance.” 

Steve grinned and tugged you close, arm snaked around your waist. “Guess I’ll lead then,” he said resolutely before he sweeped you over to the club section of the establishment. The dance floor was crowded, but it was hard to focus on that when Steve started to spin you around. For someone who said he couldn’t dance, he sure knew how to move. He could jive with the best of them. 

Steve kept one hand on your waist the whole time, the other hand encasing yours. He moved with grace, guiding you across the dance floor, occasionally lifting you in the air when the moment called for it. All the movement had your heart racing. You felt like you were floating on air. 

Sooner than you wanted, you had to ask Steve for a break, your breath coming out in sharp pants. To make matters worse, he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Stupid, perfect super soldier. Steve was fine with your request though, and led you outside. The brisk New York air hit you hard as you entered the alley behind the club, causing you to shiver. 

“You wanna head home?” Steve asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders when he saw the shiver. 

You thought for a moment. The alcohol had pretty much left your system, and outside the club, the beat wasn’t nearly as energizing. Exhaustion started to seep into you and you nodded, burying your face in Steve’s shoulder. “Only if you’ll be there,” you said against his shirt. You could feel the shake of his laugh and you had to smile. 

“Of course, doll,” he said, tilting your chin up so he could look at you. “I’d go anywhere with you.” 

You melted against him, biting your lower lip. “Steve,” you whined. He snickered and slid his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Any further whines from you were silenced when he pressed his lips against yours. A jolt of heat ran through you. Gradually, you became very aware that you were in an alley where anyone could happen upon you making out with famed hero Captain America. You pulled away with an apologetic smile. “Let’s go.” 

Steve looked a little disappointed that the kiss had ended, but he perked up again when you took his hand and tugged him towards the car. You held his hand the whole ride back to your apartment. 

His hands were on your hips as you unlocked the door. Chills ran up your spine and you nearly dropped your keys twice, but you finally managed to get inside, Steve close behind you. 

He pressed feather-light kisses to your neck, drawing giggles out of you. “Steve,” you gasped, squirming against him. “That tickles.” 

“Good,” he murmured. His grip on your hips tightened and you were pulled closer to him. You shuddered. Against your ass you could feel his cock start to harden. 

“God,” you breathed. He was big. 

“I-I don’t think I’ve shown you my room.” You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Wanna see it?”

Steve smiled. “More than anything,” he said, sincere as always. 

You managed not to trip as you led him to your room, much to your astonishment. His hands never left you. Steve was considerably more graceful than you, light on his feet, his stride perfectly matching yours. He spun you around before your knees touched the bed. He dipped you low, your body molded perfectly to his. Truly an impeccable dancer. 

You’d been kissed before, and you’d been kissed well, but this kiss, this was something else entirely. There was emotion behind this kiss, and steam. Gone were inhibitions and restraint. All that was left was need, with a hint of excitement. 

One of his hands crept down to your ass and squeezed, the other easily unzipping your dress. He pulled away just enough for the dress to drop, clinging to you as soon as it was off, both hands now kneading your ass. 

Heat surged through you. His erection pressed insistently against your stomach and you reached down, fumbling with his belt and fly. It was frustrating, and a bit embarrassing, but you finally managed to get undone, his pants falling neatly around his ankles. As soon as he stepped out of them, you turned him and pushed him onto the bed. Or rather, he let you push him.

You climbed onto him, straddling his hips as you unbuttoned his shirt. You marveled at his body as soon as you could see all of it. You even lifted yourself up slightly so you could stare at the v of his hips. “Wow,” you purred appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous.” 

The blush that already stained his cheeks deepened extensively. “That’s supposed to be my line,” he mumbled. Steve gripped your thighs and pulled you closer, his hands drifting back towards your ass. You were sensing a pattern. 

You hummed in thought and undid the clasp of your bra, letting it drop from your shoulders. Steve looked like he just won the lottery. He was at a loss for words, capable only of letting out an appreciative sigh, stars in his eyes. He certainly knew how to make one feel appreciated. 

Steve sat up, bent his head, and captured one of your nipples in his mouth. A shudder ran through you and you tangled your hand in his hair. A moan left your throat. Steve answered yours with one of his own. He pressed hot kisses up your chest to your neck, where he left little love marks. 

“S-Steve,” you moaned. “Bite me.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. Steve sank his teeth into your neck, pain mixing with pleasure as he bucked his hips, his erection sliding against you. You really had died and gone to heaven. 

You wiggled off him, and he whined at the loss of you. “Relax,” you said with a laugh. “I’m taking off my underwear.” 

Steve lit up. As soon as you were back on the bed, he was on you, laying you out and pressing kisses down your body. “Steve,” you breathed, watching him descend. “Whatcha doin?”

“Gonna make you feel good,” he murmured between kisses. The man was on a mission. He spread your legs. You felt suddenly vulnerable and fought the urge to shut them, even as his gaze ran over your most sensitive parts. “You’re so beautiful,” said Steve, full of admiration and affection. 

You squirmed. He was looking at you for too long, and you were impatient for his touch. “You just gonna sit and stare?” 

“Sorry,” he muttered. He settled himself between your legs again, and put a hand on each of your thighs, spreading your further. 

“Steve, ahH—“ Whatever you were going to say was cut off by Steve’s tongue sweeping over your slit, lingering for a few seconds on your clit. He let go of one of your thighs to put his hand to better use, slowly sliding it inside you. Encouraged by the way your back arched, Steve slid another finger inside you and began to pump them slowly in and out, his tongue lazily circling your clit. 

“God,” you said shakily. You swallowed hard and threaded your hand in his hair, your other arm draping over your eyes. 

Steve pulled his fingers out, licked his lips in a sinful manner and crawled up your body, pressing hot, opened mouth kisses to your skin as he made his ascent. You whined softly when he bit you again. Somehow, he knew how to get you strung out and panting, heat coursing through you. “Steve,” you moaned, the sound thinning into a whine. 

“You’re stunning,” he breathed, his fingertips brushing over your slit. “And so wet,” said Steve in quiet awe. 

Your desire morphed into frustration. You groaned and tried to press against his hand. He gave in easily, starting to slowly finger you again. You back arched and he curled his fingers just right, pressing against your g-spot in a way that made you see stars. You cried out and clutched Steve tight to you, a gentle sort of warmth spreading in your chest as your orgasm rolled over you. 

Steve watched you with rapt attention, adoration obvious in his blue eyes. “(Y/N),” he said, his voice silky. “Can I fuck you?”

You took a second to answer as you recovered, but did your best to give him an enthusiastic nod. “You can do,” you took a breath, “whatever you want.” 

He grinned and kissed you. There was a moment where he had to stand to push off his underwear, a bashful smile on his lips. He was simply too cute for words.

His weight on the bed caused the mattress to dip. Steve kneeled between your legs. You relaxed as he positioned himself better, one of his big hands holding your thigh while the other held his heavy cock. He guided himself into you slowly, carefully stretching you, watching you intently to gauge your reactions. You had to wiggle slightly to accommodate him, but there was no pain. 

Steve was very quiet, his eyes wide as he watched the way he slid in and out of you. His attention elsewhere gave you a chance to watch him. His hair was sufficiently ruffled, falling against his forehead. Sweat slicked his chest, his muscles flexing with each thrust. The sight of him made your mouth go dry. He caught your eye. 

The intensity of his stare sent a shiver through you. His grip on your thighs tightened to near painfulness, but you hardly noticed. Steve shifted positions, his forearm leaning on the pillow, deftly avoiding the halo of your hair. His face was buried in your shoulder, his mouth ghosting along your neck. His hips rolled fluidly into yours, the head of his cock nudging your cervix with each thrust. 

“Can I—“ He croaked in your ear. 

You swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah,” you panted in reply. 

His thrusts grew sloppy and more drawn out as he attempted to last as long as he could. The way you clenched around him made it difficulty. “I’m gonna—“ Instead of finishing the sentence, he bit your neck again. You gasped and your walls fluttered around him, drawing his release out of him. Steve moaned right into your ear. The sound was intoxicating. 

He remained on top of you for a moment before he rolled off, pulling you tight to his side as soon as he was beside you. “Hang on,” you told him, scrambling away from him. 

“(Y/N),” said Steve, his voice needy.

You pulled up the covers and laid them across him. Once he was good and tucked in, you cuddled up to him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek to make it up to him. 

Steve swallowed hard. “Was that, uh,” he paused a moment to clear his throat. “Was that okay?”

“Oh my god,” you said, sitting up to look at him. “Are you kidding?” The nervous look on Steve’s face told you he was very much not kidding. “Steve.” You grabbed his face between your hands. “I’m pretty sure that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” 

His face sagged in relief and he grinned. Steve pulled you so you laid on top of him, chest to chest, and kissed you enthusiastically. “Me too,” he said brightly. “You felt incredible.”

Despite just getting dicked down by Captain America, you flushed at his compliment. “You did too,” you said shyly. 

“I can’t get over how pretty you are,” he praised, his hand skimming down your back, going predictably to your ass. 

You were sure your face looked like a strawberry. “Gee Steve, I don’t know what to say.” 

His smile turned shy as well. “(Y/N),” he said.

Your eyes flicked to his. “Yeah?”

“Will you go steady with me?” asked Steve.

You blinked. Despite his time out of the ice, he was still terrifically old fashioned in so many ways. “You mean like, be your girlfriend?” you asked with a slight laugh. 

“I guess if you wanna say it like that, sure,” he amended. Steve took the hand that you had been using to play with his hair in his, twining your fingers together. “What do you say?”

You beamed and kissed him. “Of course,” you answered, without a doubt.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns!


End file.
